Capturing his attention
by Almondjoy90
Summary: For Sheba, survival is precedent before anything else but she stumbles upon the privileged and powerful Calvin Candie, her world turns upside down. Will she manage to keep his curiosity and attention? A look into the complicated and conflicted relationship between a slave and her master.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, plot or themes related to **_**Django Unchained**_**.**

The sickening sound of bones cracking vibrated across the small room as the two men battled to the death. Their tan faces were flushed, the muscles in their neck straining as their heavy bodies pounded against each other relentlessly.

Sheba watched their complicated dance with a stony expression on her face, her manicured index finger swishing around the rim of a glass of red vine. After living in Candieland for seven years she had seen these brutal fights all too often.

"Get him on his back and hold him!" She heard Calvin shout through clenched teeth. Calvin was extremely calm and collected throughout his orchestrated Mandingo fights. However, the last few moments of the fight for him were torture. He would become pink in the face, his brow would furrow and he would pace back and forth, an agitated expression on his face.

Calvin had a reputation as one of the most successful Mandingo dealers and respectable plantations in the United States. He was ruthless, crafty and calculated. The slaves that fought for him were the best of the best because expected excellence and anything less resulted in severe punishment at the least. However, for most, losing was basically an automatic ticket to one's death sentence.

Sheba stared at her master's face, looking upon his jaw pulled tight and anxious. To see him in his element was both terrifying and a little bit enthralling. It frightened her how much she could despise and enjoy him at the same time. Her role in life had always been complicated but she found it odd how she could love a man who stood against everything she stood for.

Sheba had been a slave since birth. She grew up with her mamma and sister in New Orleans only to see her family torn away from her. She had never met her father as he had passed away before she was even born. Her mother told her that he was a defiant man who had a stubborn streak that got him in trouble with his masters. He was a hard worker but one day he had spoken out of hand for the last time. Her mama said that he was killed on the spot.

Due to this, her mother was adamant that Sheba and her sister, Rebbie, were obedient and loyal to their masters. They were considered to be 'pretty' enough to work in the house instead of the fields. There, she played the dutiful, obedient slave well. She answered with 'yes ma'am and no sir" over and over again until she was blue in the face. Sheba was strong-willed like her father but she masked her thoughts and indifference by keeping a stony, respectable demeanor.

When she was a child, she would watch her mom as she was scolded, ridiculed and humiliated on many occasions. At times, she would watch in disgust and anger. Why did her mamma not fight back? It wasn't until she was older that she realized how strong and brave her mother really was. She realized that every scream, slap and bruise she took was for her daughters. She was a fierce protector.

They were treated relatively fair compared to many slaves so they made an effort to never complain or argue. Yet, she could remember the countless times her mom was taken from her in the night by some of the slave masters in New Orleans. Sometimes the master's would request their mother to their room but other times they would take her in the same room right in front of Sheba and Rebbie's eyes. Sheba would watch as her mother would lie still as a board on the cot, her eyes unfocused and glassy. Sometimes she would cry out in pain or yelp but most of the time she would take it like a good "nigger whore" as they called her.

Sheba would cry silently the first few times, clinging to her older sister as they crouched in the corner. When Sheba was 14, Rebbie was taken away from her as well. Her mother had cried and pled that they didn't use her and she offered herself up instead countless times. Yet, her pleas were to no avail. At age 17, Rebbie had already been passed around a few times and she was a staple in their plantation owner's bed. A few months later, she was sold to a man with a fancy hat and a handsome billfold.

Only 15 at the time, Sheba watched as her mom became weaker, dying in front of her eyes. She blamed herself for her daughter's misfortunes. Her mother died soon after from illness and exhaustion. Sheba allowed herself to cry for a minute or two. She mourned her loving mother and cried for the first time for her sister who she would never see again. It wasn't long before she wiped her eyes and became determined. All her life, she had witnessed how sex and lust was just a tool for destruction. She would try her hardest to be the one in control and not share the same fate as her mom and sister.

It became increasingly more difficult to keep her calm and integrity on the plantation. Denial and disobedience were unheard of traits in a slave. Especially, as a woman she was to do what she was told no matter the consequences. When she was 17, the same age as Rebbie, her new plantation owner, Mr. Dahl, had been making constant advances towards her. He was about sick of Velma, his current sleeping mate and he had wanted to swap her for something younger, lovelier and untainted.

On one particular afternoon on the plantation, Mr. Dahl had instructed all of the slaves to prepare a mighty feast for a man who was to visit later that evening. The man was named Calvin Candie and he was a wealthy and prosperous plantation owner from Mississippi. The slaves were instructed to be on their best behavior and make sure Mr. Candie felt comfortable and welcome. Apparently, Mr. Candie was a young man not to be trifled with and he had inherited his plantation and money from his parents.

It was late afternoon when their guest arrived. He came in a carriage pulled by horses, a few slaves taking charge of the reins. Mr. Dahl had pulled her and two other of the women apart and instructed them to get cleaned up. He had handed all three of them a simple but nicer, dress frock and instructed them that they would need to be presentable and polite as they were chosen to serve their important guest.

She had sat as one of the older women prepared her for the evening, singing church hymns as she pinned and oiled Sheba's hair. Sheba was not surprised by this. She and the same two women were picked to serve Mr. Dahl's finest guests. She found the whole procedure to be tedious and ridiculous but she bit her tongue. Who was she to complain about her life in the kitchens when some of her friends and acquaintances were whipped in the field?

Mr. Candie had long been seated when Sheba was instructed to bring in the dessert that she had prepared for the two men in their parlor. She had whipped up her famous white cake, a recipe passed down from her mother to her. When she entered the parlor, she finally laid eyes on their mysterious guest. She had heard that the man was young but she was surprised to see how young he truly was. He was a man in his mid to late twenties.

She took in the man before her as she handed him his cake. He had light brown hair that was brushed back and grew past his ears. His facial hair was brown and short, his skin slightly tan with piercing, cobalt eyes. He was slim and quite tall. She could assume that many people he might be considered to be quite handsome, yet, to her, it was hard to think of any one of her master's as desirable. Mr. Candie looked at her and smiled, his teeth slightly tobacco stained.

"Thank you, darling and aren't you an exquisite creature? They must breed them well in New Orleans." He said as he eyed her appreciatively.

Sheba's face flushed from his compliments but she didn't avert her eyes. To her, male attraction was usually vile and unwanted but she knew that it was necessary to survive. She had learned at a young age to smile coyly, bat her eyelashes and be desirable. It was not what she wished to do and sometimes it made her feel cheap. Yet, she figured out that an insolent tongue and frown used to get her in a lot of trouble when she was younger.

Mr. Candie finished drinking his lemonade that she had prepared earlier. "This is delicious. You're niggers are efficient because I've never had lemonade like this."

Mr. Dahl smiled, obviously flattered. "Sheba here, made it."

Mr. Candie looked at her. "My, oh, my Sheba. Named after the Queen herself. Get me another glass of your wonderful lemonade, won't you darling." He said and he put out his empty glass for her to take.

Sheba nodded and took the glass from him, surprised that he even knew who the Queen of Sheba was. Her paternal grandparents were said to be from Ethiopia. Her father had given her name as homage to them.

She went into the kitchen and poured him a cool glass of lemonade from the pitcher on the counter.

"Mr. Candie sure do seem fond of you," said Millie, a fellow slave who worked in the kitchens with Sheba. She was in her early thirties but she looked much younger. She had caramel-colored skin, with a gap and big, hazel eyes. She had a kind and almost exotic look to her.

Sheba shrugged. "He seem to charm many. I wouldn't think much about it."

Millie just nodded and gave her a knowing smirk, returning to cleaning the dishes as Sheba walked out with his glass.

When she returned she saw that Mr. Dahl and his guest were laughing as they ate their cake.

She handed him the glass of lemonade and he took it from her with a smile. "My friend here told me that you also made the cake. Now tell me Sheba is there anything you can't do?" He asked her and Sheba nodded in thanks..

"Thank you, sir." She said.

"Of course, my sweet," he said holding her slender hand in his and brushing a kiss on her knuckles. Sheba froze up, looking alarmed at his blatant affection. She looked quickly at Mr., Dahl but he just looked back at her, his face expressionless. She had encountered many white men who were flirtatious behind closed doors. Still, she had never met one who was so out in the open with it.

"You've done well for yourself. You also have some of the finest nigra women I've seen in a long while." Mr. Candie remarked.

"She is definitely a fine nigger and a hard worker. She's smart for one too, speaks real well." Mr. Dahl leaned in.

"But the best part is she's almost eighteen and she hasn't been touched. She'll go to a high bidder for sure." Mr. Dahl said and Sheba felt herself grow annoyed and angry that he was boasting about her virtue and the price he had. She knew that Mr. Dahl had told the slaves and some of his friends in his house to not touch her. She felt appreciative but disgusted that he was only trying to protect her virtue so he could auction her off to any vile man who would pay a rage sum for her.

Mr. Candie looked highly impressed by this and he raised his eyebrows at Mr. Dahl's remarks. "And I'm sure she's worth every penny." He said looking her up and down.

Mr. Dahl nodded. "She speaks French fluently as well." Calvin looked at her smiling. "Is that so? I am very much fond of the language."

Sheba shot Mr. Dahl a look. He knew that she only knew bits and pieces of the language. Her mother had Creole lineage and had taught her some of the language when she was younger, in hushed tones before bed. She had not had enough time or material to study the language.

"I know a lil' but when would I have the time or be able to speak in another language?" She said, her tone was steady and calm but she knew to her master and Mr. Candie it would sound rude and accusatory.

Mr. Dahl gave her a cold stare that could cut sharper than daggers. To her surprise she noticed that Mr. Candie had an amused look on his face, his eyes twinkling at her.

"A nigra who knows a bit of French is most impressive. You sure have a beautiful and witty mouth on you." He said, chuckling.

"A mouth that has gotten her in trouble but a mouth that knows how to please, isn't that right, Sheba?" Mr. Dahl asked her, his eyes cruel.

Sheba bit her lip, humiliated that he was embarrassing her in front of Mr. Candie. Mr. Candie did not look very pleased at Mr. Dahl's comment. In fact, he looked downright annoyed. His back stiffened just the slightest and his brow furrowed a bit. Over the past few weeks, Mr. Dahl had made her please him with her mouth several times until he was satisfied. He knew that the act was degrading but he was all about power and control. She should have known better than to speak up in front of his guest.

Sheba knew she had a death wish but she decided to be sweet back at him without letting it affect her.

"Definitely, sir. Only for you." She smiled, in a sickeningly fake and sweet manner back at him and he scowled.

"Leave us and clean up." He said and she took this as her cue, looking at Mr. Calvin's curious expression one last time as she scurried off.

Sheba's heart didn't stop pounding until she arrived in the kitchens along with Millie again and two other women who were cleaning.

Millie looked at her. "Is you aight Sheba?" She asked taking in her distressed appearance. Sheba nodded. "Just somethin' I said to Mr. Dahl. I think he's furious at me."

Millie looked at her sympathetically. "I understand but girl, ya need to be careful." She said and she patted her back. "You know this already. I worry about you child." She said, softly. Ever since her mom had passed and her sister sold, Millie had helped her and became almost a maternal parent to her.

Sheba nodded. She definitely understood her actions and she realized that insulting her master's intelligence was definitely not a wise decision.

She sighed tiredly and began the process of cleaning the dishes and kitchen. Millie and the other slaves left to complete other tasks. She was by herself and had been cleaning up for an hour or so when Mr. Dahl busted in.

"You've been sold to a high bidder! Ain't that a treat?" Sheba looked at him confusingly.

"Look at you, looking all ignorant. I said you sold, girl. Mr. Candie bought you, he said he was impressed. I don't know why, especially after your behavior at dinner."

Sheba felt stunned, as if she had been slapped across the face. He had bought her? She couldn't believe it. Being sold on the plantation was a cruel reality. She just hadn't expected it be so sudden. How had she made a positive impression when she had openly insulted her master?

Mr. Dahl smiled at her. "That's right. It'll be funny to see how long you last. You've got the looks and brains but no one wants a bitch nigger who's challenging. I just wish I had got a piece of that fresh, young body of yours." He said and he palmed her butt, sneering.

Sheba wanted to rip his hand off of her but she stood her ground. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Now get up them stairs and clean up. He paid a lot for you and you better fuck him right before he changes his mind." He said and he smirked, pinching her bottom before strolling off.

Sheba watched him leave as her heart pounded furiously in her chest. She had to convince herself to walk up the stairs and get ready. She saw Millie in the hall and Millie clung to her but she couldn't hug her back, fully. She was in such a daze.

Sheba sat perfectly still and stoic as Millie fixed her up. She didn't want to talk, couldn't talk but she knew Millie would understand. She watched as Millie oiled her hair and twisted it into an elegant knot that she had no idea how to fashion. She slipped her in a white gown and put red lipstick on her lips.

"There ya are, dear. You is pretty as a spring mornin'. I'm gonna miss you Sheba. Stay brave, hold ya head high." She said and a lone tear escaped her eye as she wrapped her in a tight hug.

Sheba hugged her back this time, exhaling sadly and nervously. This would be one of the last times that she saw the woman who had become a friend, mentor to her. The childish part was afraid to leave her.

"Thanks Millie. Truly, for everything." Sheba said as she pulled away from her. Millie nodded and cupped her chin. "You'll be fine. You is strong, smart and brave. You gonna to be all right." She said and Sheba nodded, squeezing her hand one last time before getting up to leave.

As she strolled down the hall she thought of her life so far. She had lived in New Orleans her whole life. Living there with sometimes cruel masters wasn't ideal but it was comforting in a small way. Yet, she realized that there was nothing here for her anymore. Her whole family was gone and she was by herself. How she missed her sister and mother so much. She wondered if one day she could find her sister. She hoped and prayed almost every night that she was alive and well.

Still, Mississippi frightened her. She had heard so many stories about the cruelty and injustice there. Also, she knew that despite the sugar and looks, Mr. Candie could be a ruthless and highly dangerous man.

She knocked on the door, her heart pounding wildly. It was only a moment before the door was opened and Mr. Candie appeared before her. He exhaled from his pipe, the smoke billowing in a steady stream as he smiled at her.

"You're a sight for sore eyes. Come in." He said and she nodded, walking in and she balled her fists nervously. He put down his pipe and motioned for her to take a seat next to him.

"A smart gal like you is probably wondering why I decided to buy you and bring you home with me, yes?" he asked and she nodded, smelling the faint tobacco on his breath. "Yes sir."

"When it's just you and I, you can address me as Calvin from now on, Sheba." He said and she blinked, surprised. She had never called any master by his first name before.

"Now I decided to bring you home because you caught my attention. Obviously you're beautiful and I heard you're a skilled worker from Mr. Dahl. But he also told me that you have a quick mouth on you that can get you in trouble and I'm not sure if I can tolerate that."

Sheba nodded a bit nervously, wondering if he would strike her. He just chuckled at her expression, "Lucky for you I have a thing for women who are a bit on the spicier, naughty side." He said tilting her head up.

"I like that fire. You don't just take it like most nigras. I hope you're just as passionate in bed as you are to Mr. Dahl when he insults you." He said and his lips hovered over hers.

Sheba knew her role now. It was to be his sultry, siren of a slave. She better not let him down. She knew he had paid well for her.

"I definitely have the passion for you, Calvin." She said sexily as she put her mask on, her finger stroking his bottom lip. She cupped his face and brought her mouth to his. She kissed him fully and was taken aback at his response. He kissed her just as passionately back and their tongues found each other's quickly.

She gasped as he pushed her back on the sheets as he took control of the kiss. He kissed her deeply and his hands came up to cup her breasts as he pressed himself against her thigh. She could already feel his arousal through his pants. She knew men responded to touch so she began to run her hands down his body, her hands feeling his chest and pecks through his shirt. She sucked on his tongue and he groaned underneath her.

She tried to remember her training and sexual experiences in the past. Be confident, tender but sexy she thought to herself as she came to sit next to him on the bed. She swallowed nervously before she pulled off her gown, letting it drop to the ground.

She tried to stop her hands from trembling as she stood bare in front of him. He eyed her appreciatively and he put his hands on her hips, stroking her skin.

"Isn't your body a work of art?" He beamed and he pulled her closer kissing down her neck until he reached her breasts. He filled his hands wih her full breasts and he began to knead them, pinching her chocolate colored nipples.

Sheba was ashamed by the feelings that surged inside of her. Men had kissed her, groped her and stroked her before but she never gained much pleasure from it. Yet, the warm hands from her new master was making her feel good and she felt humiliated and confused.

He began to suck on her left breast while continuing to massage her right. Sheba bit her lip to stop herself from moaning even though the warm tingling sensation rushed down to her privates.

He pulled away to look at her womanhood and he stroked her lips softly, marveling at the wetness she was embarrassed he felt. "So young and pure, I bet you've never been touched like this." He said and he slipped his finger in her wetness making her gasp aloud.

He swirled it around, eventually adding another finger and she gasped at the sensation. He looked at her, noticing her straining, her lip. "Don't be afraid to moan. It's just you and me. It feels good, don't it?" He asked and she stared into his startling blue eyes, nodding bashfully.

He slipped one more thick finger, stretching her out while flicking her nub with his hand and she gasped aloud in pain and pleasure.

"You're so tight." He said as he slipped his fingers out. "Do you want me, darling?" He said as he sat her on top of him so she could feel his hard arousal on her thigh.

Sheba didn't want to give in but a part of her was curious. Also, she knew she must please her master if she wanted to be treated well. Calvin Candie was a ruthless man who got what he wanted. He had also just paid a lot of money for her and it was best if she didn't upset him.

She nodded and decided that she should be more vocal and towards him. She put on her seductive mask as she bent her head down to kiss him since it seemed that he liked kisses. She had kissed a few men before, black and white. She was surprised that his lips were fuller than usual.

She decided to shake him up a bit by kissing him harder, her tongue parted his lips and she massaged his mouth with her tongue. He seemed to like her eagerness and she began to rock herself against his arousal. He grabbed her backside in response and he grinded her against him.

She continued to kiss him and her hands slowly went to his shirt, fidgeting with the buttons as she made eye contact, asking him silently if it was all right. He just smirked at her and he watched as she peeled off the layers until his chest was bare.

She moved off of him so he could remove his pants and she felt her face flush in humiliation at the small patch of wetness that was left on his pants from her grinding on him. Surely he would be angry that a slave had soiled his expensive pants.

"Don't be embarrassed. It's natural." He said and he palmed her once more, before licking the wetness off his fingers. Sheba raised her eyebrow at this. He was quite kinky and eager. She had learned that most of the most powerful and intimidating masters were,

He motioned for her to remove his undergarments and she abided, proud that her hands didn't shake. She pulled them off completely until he stood naked in front of her. He was super lean and tall but her eyes went exactly to his manhood. Nakedness was not taboo on the plantations so she had seen many before. Still, it was interesting and terrifying to know that it would be inside of her very soon.

She noted that it was not the biggest one she had ever seen but it was definitely not small. It was a good size and it stood up, hard and rigid. The head was swollen and drops of liquid were on the tip.

She knew her role even if she didn't want to do it. She had pleasured men with her hands and Mr. Dahl had forced her to please him with his mouth a few times. She grasped his manhood in her hands, marveling at the silky, yet hard feeling of it. She began to massage him, the way she knew men liked it, stroking him up and down, firmly grasping him. She watched as he groaned as she used her other hand to massage his balls, softly, feeling him grow even harder in her hand.

"Let me feel your mouth, darling. I've been thinking of those lips since I saw you." He gasped and she almost wanted to roll her eyes but she sunk to the floor obediently.

She stroked him a few times before taking him in her mouth, careful not to brush her teeth against him. She went through the motions and began to suck him, hollowing her cheeks as she took him in deeper. She felt him gasp loudly and she pulled him out, licking him before sucking at the tip.

Calvin groaned loudly and his hands tugged harder in her hair she felt him twitch and braced her for what followed. Sure enough, her mouth was filled with his salty, warm semen. She swallowed it down like a good little slave even though she wanted to spit it out at him and she slithered up from the floor as he pulled her to him.

She was always startled and surprised at the control she had over her master's when she did this. They gasped, spattered lost it all. Calvin was no exception. Sweat beaded his brow and she watched as she pushed him to losing control. Usually, sucking off men made her feel dirty and demeaning but she was marveling at the sense of power she had over Calvin. She was a mere black slave. She was seen as useless, ignorant and replaceable in society's eyes but she had this powerful white man shaking in her hands.

"Damn, girl. I feel like I'm a kid again. You are just too much." He said and he began to suck at her breast.

Sheba lay still as he sucked her, nipping at her tender nipples. One part of her wanted to throw him off but the other part wanted to pull his head in deeper. His mouth was rough on her breast but she didn't mind the sensation. She realized that she would probably enjoy intimacy if it hadn't always been used as a tool against her.

It wasn't long before she felt him harden again against her thigh. She knew that it was time to do the deed. She felt nervous, scared and jittery but she was not willing to show her weakness to Calvin. She had to appear to be strong or he would always see her as weak, easily disposable and helpless.

She kissed him one last time before lying down on her back. She looked up at him from under her eyelashes and beckoned him to come forward with her eye contact. She felt like a foolish little girl trying to pass for a woman but it seemed to work because he came forward as if he was in a trance.

He wasted no time positioning himself on top of her, lining himself up with her entrance. "Innocent and beautiful, you've never been touched." He repeated stroking her pussy lightly with his fingers. "That's going to change after tonight. You'll be mine and mine only. How does that sound?" He asked and Sheba looked at him questionably but just let it roll off her back. Men could be chauvinistic pigs when it came to "their" possessions. She just happened to be one of them.

"It sounds nice, Monsieur." She all but purred, feeling ridiculous and almost wanting to laugh at the situation.

He smiled at her and he held her hips as he entered her quickly and swiftly.

Sheba gasped loudly in discomfort and shock at the intrusion. To his credit he froze for a small amount of time before giving her a few moments as her heart beat wildly in her chest before he started to move again. Sheba gritted her teeth and bore the agony as he stroked inside of her. She had had much worst and she could get through it,

"God, you're so tight. Like fucking heaven." He groaned in her ear as he pumped. The aching sting began to dull and instead she began to fill a slight tingling sensation. The pressure of him inside her wasn't as bad as she thought it was. Despite her best efforts to resist, it actually felt pretty good.

He pulled out and plunged back into her roughly and she whimpered at the pressure. Her walls felt stretched completely as he filled her up. She bit her lip as he pumped, both of their breaths coming out in pants. He looked at her, his eyes a dark blue and his coifed hair coming undone from his scalp. "I want to hear you." He said almost as a command and she realized that she was forgetting her role. She was supposed to please him.

"It feels so good. Please don't stop." She said breathily as he parted her thighs so he could sink in further. He groaned loudly at her moans and he began to move faster.

Sheba looked into his face and saw that his blue eyes were heavy with lust. He held her hips in place as his hips began to jackhammer wildly and she cried out in surprise. The intense throbbing mixed with a bit of pleasure was immense. She felt his fluid strokes start to become chaotic and choppy and he grunted loudly as he came, his seed shooting into her. She felt him rock a few times until he came entirely and then he collapsed on top of her.

She lay underneath him, both of them sweaty as he panted against her neck. Sheba felt uncomfortable and stiff as his hands still remained on her hips. She was alarmed that he was still holding on to her. She thought it was best if she moved to the slave quarters. She doubted he wanted a nigra on his bed.

She slowly untangled himself from the sheets and his arms. "Sorry, I just need to get my dress before I go." She said and he looked at her puzzled.

"Sheba, you're not sleeping in the quarters anymore. Did I not please you, darling? You are mine now. Come to the bed."

Sheba bit her lip. "You did please me, master. Greatly." She added. Telling him what he wanted to hear.

He nodded and smiled. "Good. Now lay down my sweet." He said and she lay down, rigidly, wanting to wince at the throbbing soreness she felt between her legs. She really wanted to wash the filth and guilt off of her but instead she let out a quiet, shaky exhale as she tried to figure out the etiquette of sleeping in her master's bed. She was cold but he had most of the covers, wrapped around him.

She looked at him and he seemed to be watching her curiously as she debated reaching for the blanket. Finally, she just decided to stop overthinking it and she pulled at the blanket, wrapping it around her but making sure she had shared most of it with him. She stared at him in the eye as she did so, wondering what he would say. Her stubbornness and strong will had gotten her into trouble many times before.

To her surprise, Calvin just chuckled, his head flung back. "You are an interesting one, aren't you? Very different, but that ain't necessarily a bad thing." He smiled at her and stroked her bottom lip as if he was going to kiss her but thought better of it. He turned on his side. "I'll see you in the mornin' my dear. Try to get some rest, there's going to be a long day of travelin' tomorrow. "

She closed her eyes, becoming lost in her thoughts. As a slave, thinking was not encouraged. Intelligence meant power and no master wanted a nigger who was able to gain control over them. However, she thought all of the time. Her mind was always working, like a clock that ticked away.

Sometimes she foolishly thought about being a free woman and not being shackled by invisible chains. She envisioned losing her virginity by someone she loved or at least cared about. She imagined looking lovingly in their eyes, moaning in year nest and sharing something special with them. Instead, she slept with her new master. She lay with a man who was a complete and utter stranger to her several hours ago.

But then she thought of her friends or family who had been forced to sleep with many men, raped beaten or killed and she realized that she was more fortunate so far. She was alive well and had maintained herself for a long time. She looked at the man across from her who was sleeping peacefully. His face looked calm and more handsome as he slept. She knew she would not get any sleep tonight. She was full of nerves and she was frightened to sleep in his bed. She felt so uncomfortable around him because he was also different. She had heard cruel stories about him and some of his treatment to her own people but he puzzled her. Why would he treat her kindly and what were his motives of having her? It all just seemed suspicious and odd.

She sighed tiredly and looked up at the ceiling. 'Mama, I sure could use your guidance right now.' She thought, looking up at the ceiling. She didn't know how long she stared at the ceiling numb and weighted down with her thoughts. It felt like she had only slept for a minute before the bright sunlight streamed into her window. She hoped the rays of sun represented hope. She would need it as she embarked on this unfamiliar and terrifying chapter of her new life.

**This story will probably be only a two-shot and I wrote it simply because I was intrigued by the character of Sheba and the her mysterious allure. I wanted to delve a bit into her background. Also, I have been a life-long fan of Mr. Leo Dicaprio and his performance in this film is marvelous. Candie is such a despicable character but Dicaprio stole the show with his charm and charisma. He has always been an amazing actor. He's simply, dazzling to watch in action. Please read and review!**


	2. Chapter 2

The men continued to pummel each other, their russet colored fists moving so fast it was hard to tell which limb belonged to whom.

With each sickening crunch, Sheba continued to drink, appearing unfazed. Sometimes she was astonished about her own sense of disinterest and desensitization. The first time she had seen the fights between the men she had thrown up her luxurious dinner afterwards. Her stomach had retched and her insides were tight and uncomfortable. In her lifetime she had seen many cruel and insensible acts. However, seeing men fight to the death like wild beasts sickened her more than she could bear.

After the first fight, she had retreated to her room instead of visiting his bedroom. She didn't even want to see him. Calvin had given her a nice room that was a couple of doors down from him. she did not sleep in the same quarters as the rest of the slaves which was both strange and bewildering. She had never before had the luxury of sleeping anywhere on her own so the small room was a comfort for her.

Calvin had instructed her to come to his room after the fight but she had stubbornly decided to refuse. She knew she was asking for a death wish but she didn't care at the moment. She had seen Calvin behave like all of her past slave masters. She had seen him talk down to them, punish and have them killed. She was extremely aware that he was a Mandingo fighter but to see him in his element was a different story.

Watching Calvin cheer, cuss and stomping around while two of her people fought to the death disgusted her. Some of the men were his "prize" fighters until they grew old, tired or battered. After they were used they became like old trinkets that he used to be fond of. They were beneath him and as disposable. That night she could not dare to bring herself to go to his bed.

She couldn't sleep a wink that night, numb and terrified that he would have her punished. The next morning she rose with the other slaves to cook breakfast. Her heart was pounding when she brought him his plate and juice in the morning but she somehow kept her composure.

He had just stared at her, quirking his eyebrow at her. His face looked remarkably young and beautiful that morning except for the dark circles under his eyes. Apparently, he hadn't slept well either so she but she quickly placed his food down and turned around to leave. He grabbed her wrist, his large hand holding her in place tightly as he looked upon her face.

"Do you not like this place, my dear? Do I not treat you well enough?" He asked her and Sheba swallowed, nervously.

"No, master, you treat me well." She said and he nodded.

"When I bought you I knew a woman of your grace and beauty would fit well here. Now, I told you that I like your fire but I won't have you disrespecting me." He looked at her, his eyes penetrating and dark.

"I'm not going to lecture you because you're a smart gal but I need you to be strong. You will listen and you will not deny me your company. You hear?" He asked, his eyes looking dangerously calm.

Sheba nodded, staring at him without blinking an eye, her wrist stinging from his rough hands.

"I hear you." She repeated and he smiled, letting go of her wrist, noticing that her dark skin was bruised, almost purple.

"Great. I knew you would understand. I will see you in my chambers, later." He said, smiling as he began to take a bite of his porridge. She looked at him with distaste, wishing she could stuff his face into the hot porridge but she controlled herself. She understood where he was coming from even though his thoughts about life were warped. As his slave she was his and it was common knowledge that she was to behave and not defy him. She tried her best but she definitely wasn't his floor mat. She had too much pride for that.

She often wondered how she could keep up with this facade. She was essentially a kept nigger. From the minute she stepped foot on the plantation it was made clear that she was Calvin's and Calvin's alone. At first, many of the males had looked at her eagerly and with curiosity. They talked to her, flirted and joked when they had the chance. Sheba had befriended some of the male slaves.

Little by little, she noticed how they stopped teasing, looked down when she walked by them and stopped talking all together.

She tried not to complain. How dare she feel this way when her fellow slaves and her mother and sister suffered so much more than she? In her head she was an insufferable, selfish woman who didn't deserve being treated well. She loathed who she had become and was saddened by her conflicting feelings.

One part of her cared so deeply for Calvin that she often thought it was love. Sometime he would look at her so lovingly, kiss her so sweetly that it would take her breath away, There were times that they made love so tenderly that she wanted to cry. Their foreheads touching, bodies pressed together in a sensual rhythm that was so powerful it was intoxicating. There were times that he made her feel equal, powerful like a goddess instead of the slave she was in reality.

Then there were times that she hated him more than any person in the world. When he was angry it could be terrifying. He was so clever and calculating that it made her almost paralyzed with fear even when she tried to act strong. She would often challenge him despite her fear and he had shouted at her so loudly and ferociously that she was convinced that he would kill her. She was disgusted by his actions and his ruthlessness. How could he be so evil and condescending to some of her on people but treat her like a queen most of the time?

Most of all she hated herself. She was the foolish woman who had come to feel for her master. There were times that she worried about him, thought about him when he left. She tried to fight her feelings with every fiber of her being when they first met but she couldn't help it. She knew shouldn't give a rat's ass about him. If she was a stronger person she would have done the right thing years ago. She would have killed him or tried to run away rather than be in his presence. She should have died for the greater good of her people but she simply couldn't. A selfish part of her couldn't let him go. He was like a wound that wouldn't stop bleeding and she wasn't even sure if she wanted it to be healed.

He cared for her as well, probably more than he would like to admit to himself. She was a nigger, a slave with supposedly no purpose in the world but he went to her for everything. He trusted her completely. He dined with her, spent almost all of his alone time with her and shared intimacy in ways that others couldn't even imagine.

He sometimes slept with other women whenever he had a craving. Yet, she was the only woman, white or black that he had let sleep in her bed. He had even asked her to sleep there every night but she had to respectively decline. She needed her own space to think sometimes without being smothered.

She was the only woman who could defy and deny him of anything. With everyone else he became pink at the face, threw tantrums, had punished. He had only hit her once in their seven years together. She hadn't talked to him for two days after the incident and he had practically crawled to her feet, begging for her forgiveness.

She wondered why she had this power of him. He didn't tolerate defiance, refusal or disobedience from anyone. Yet, he allowed it from her no matter how many times she challenged him. She believed that he was fascinated with her because she was stubborn. As a man born into luxury and privilege he had never been yelled at, ridiculed or shamed. He never had to want for anything and his slaves satisfied his every need.

When she was with him she didn't tolerate his sour behavior, his privilege and attitude. She was not foolish enough to push all of his buttons but she knew how to keep him at bay. In public together, it was clearly known that he was very fond of her but he never let on too much. She made sure not to disrespect him or his intelligence in front of others. Exposing the power she had over him to the public was dangerous.

It was only in the privacy of his room is where they both came alive. He fawned over her, lavished her with fine trinkets and clothing, talked about their future. They didn't second guess and there were no awkward pauses or concerns about race and class. In their room she was his complete equal, his queen. He would sometimes express his love for her after they made love, the adoration clear in his eyes.

It was so painful for her to see. For him everything was easy. He loved her but she was still his, an object of his keeping. He was white, powerful, wealthy but most importantly free. He didn't have to live with invisible chains. He was valued and accepted into society, he had cool, calculated control over those he owned. He decided whether or not his toys should be broken, kept or tarnished at his own expense.

When she first came to live with Calvin parts of her were hardened but she was still very much a girl. She wanted to have a fresh start, befriend more of her own peers, and get to know everyone. At first she was treated like everyone else. She woke early, worked hard slept and repeated her mundane and tedious tasks. However, as the other slaves started to notice her favoritism and approval from Calvin their opinions on her changed.

The men stopped vying for her attention and the women saw her only as a higher class jezebel. They started to gossip and talk about her in both curiosity and disapproval. On the inside this hurt Sheba more than she could express but she decided to not show them her pain. Over the years she learned to never show her emotions or hurt. Pain represented weakness and she would not let them descend upon her like a pack of rabid wolves.

She accepted some of the ridiculous jewels, corsets and gowns that she had been given from him. She learned to do superficial tasks such as applying lipstick and styling her hair. She walked alongside Calvin with her head held high, daring them to say anything to her.

She had maintained a few friends but she knew most of the slaves resented her. They saw her as dangerous and they judged her relationship with Calvin. They began to see how she sometimes manipulated him, controlling him like a puppet. This worked in their favor sometimes when she was able to control his wrath but other times they viewed her as a traitor, someone who was valued better as them.

As Sheba sipped her tonic, she realized that maybe she had become the very monster she had raged against when she was younger. She had never envisioned being this woman. On the outside she appeared to be intelligent, confident and strong. Yet, on the inside her resolve was crawling to pieces and she never realized how blatant it was until she sat stoicly, as two men beat themselves to death in front of her. How and when had she become so numb to it all, so disengaged and rotten?

One final blow to the head snapped her out of her trance and she jumped up, her drink spilling all over the couch. She quickly grabbed her cup and tore a layer of her dress off, blotting the stain.

Calvin turned to see the commotion and he chuckled slightly at her antics, shaking her head that she had ripped her dress. "Sheba, sweetie you may be excused. I will see you soon." He said and she nodded thankfully, her hands shaking from seeing the battered men. She knew he would want to have her tonight so she went to his room, quickly trying to calm herself down before he entered.

She decided to distract herself by taking off her dress so that only her black undergarments showed. After, she wiped off her make up and took down her hair, letting her curls tumble down her back. Calvin secretly loved her the most when she looked beautifully natural.

She heard the door open and Calvin entered, before shutting and locking the latch.

"Are you happy to see me?" He asked her and she nodded truthfully. "It has been too long." He smiled at her. "It is a shame that your dress is ruined but I must say I prefer to see you like this. As beautiful as ever." He said, taking in her body.

He pulled her to him kissing her neck, sucking at the skin as ran his hands down her body, his hands squeezing her breasts in the corset and rubbing her through her underwear. He sighed against her neck as he felt the dampness that remained there and he pulled them off completely.

"You're so wet, darling. We're you thinking of me fucking you, claiming you as mine?" He asked and she nodded, with a devilish smirk, turning to him.

"Only you, Calvin. I want you so bad inside of me, filling me up." She brought her hand to cup his hard manhood in his pants, rubbing it roughly.

"Can you do that Calvin? Make me feel good like only you can. I want you to fuck me, long and hard." She purred in his ear as she stroked him and he groaned loudly, his face flush as she rubbed him. She had learned to turn his cockiness against him. She was just as bold and brash when they were alone together. She loved to work him up, make this powerful man sweat and stutter. He had control in every aspect of his life but in the bedroom she ruled, she was king and had him wrapped around her little finger.

He grabbed her head and began to kiss her roughly, moaning into her mouth as she helped pull off his pants and britches so that he was naked completely. He turned her around, bending her over the bed as he took in the sight of her lovely, plump bottom and long, smooth legs. He unconsciously stroked himself, as he looked at her his heartbeat pounding as he took her in.

He rubbed his hard cock against her butt as he bent her over the bed. Without another warning he plunged inside of her and she gasped at the intrusion.

She used to feel numb at the feeling but she relished it now. She enjoyed feeling full with him inside of her. They fit perfectly like a puzzle inside of each other. He liked taking her from behind. The power and control he had from her as he pumped in earnest.

She moaned as he moved inside of her. She could feel his warm breath on her neck as his hands held her hips in place as he stroked. He knew he wouldn't last long. Over the years he had learned to not lose control but it was always hard with Sheba. Every time felt like his first. She was just too tight, too wet, and too lovely for him to not feel this way.

She moaned loudly as he began to jackhammer inside of her, the bed rocking with his rough thrusts. His hands laced with hers as he screwed her and she held on tightly, glad to hold on to something. She wasn't lying when she said that only Calvin made her feel wonderful. As cruel and terrible of a man he could be he was still hers. He excited her, made her feel beautiful and whole. No other man had done that for her before. When they were together intimately it was all fireworks. She never knew that sex could make her feel so good and content.

He put his arms on either side of her as he stroked each pump long and hard just how she wanted it. "Come for me, sweetheart. Let go." He said roughly and she arched her butt up, spreading her legs for him to sink in deeper. One hand held him up while the other stroked her lips, caressing her womanhood softly in contrast to his brutal thrusts.

She began to whimper sexily as he hit her spot and it all became too much. She screamed his name as she felt herself come wildly, collapsing on the bed as he stroked a few more times before spilling himself inside of her.

He kissed the back of her neck shakily before he untangled himself from her. They embraced for a long while and she stroked his bottom lip before she bent down and began to kiss him.

Over the years she had learned to enjoy the feeling of his lips on hers. Calvin was a complicated man in and out of the bedroom. Sometimes he liked to be domineering, aggressive and almost forceful when he was with her. There had been times where he had left bite marks all over her neck and body, her lips almost bruised from his rough kisses.

There were also days where they kissed lazily, longing, wrapped in each other's embraces. There were days when he was needy and he would make soft, almost tender love to her until they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Today he was a bit of both. She decided to take control this time as she kissed him, her tongue reaching for his in a soft, seductive dance. He responded, kissing her back and she crawled on to his lap, watching as he began to harden already.

No longer was she the shy, virginal girl who was embarrassed to be naked or touch him. She reached one hand down to cup his arousal and she stroked him slowly, her finger tips lightly scraping against the sensitive head of his penis.

He moaned into her mouth and she smiled against him as she continued to stroke him until his penis was weeping from excitement. She put the tip of him against her and she rubbed it against her clit, moaning as it brushed the swollen nub.

Calvin watched her, his eyes slanted lustily. She had learned that he liked to watch her pleasure herself.

She lined him up, taking him in, slowly feeling herself up. They both gasped at the union, neither of them able to satisfy the craving of being inside each other. She held onto his shoulders as she began to rock against him.

The first few minutes were quiet, just the sound of their heavy breathing as they moved against each other in bliss. Calvin guided her hips as they moved, enjoying the view of her full breasts in his face. He brought his mouth to her breast, suckling as she moved against him.

She held the back of his head as he sucked, moaning at his mouth on her. Her moans grew louder as he nipped at her breasts playfully. When he resurfaced she bent down to kiss him chastely but he wanted more.

He kissed her heatedly, passionately as she moved on top of him, his mouth not wanting to leave hers. She sucked his bottom lip softly before letting it pop out of her mouth as she leaned back, giving him a full view of their joining. She held his thighs as she bounced on top of him and he took in her breasts as they jiggled from the pressure of his thrusts. This of course drove him wild and he gasped hotly.

He kissed her heatedly, passionately as she screwed him, his mouth not wanting to leave hers. She sucked his bottom lip softly before letting it pop out of her mouth as she leaned back, giving him a full view of their joining. She held his thighs as she bounced on top of him and he took in her breasts as they jiggled from the pressure of his thrusts. This of course drove him wild and he gasped hotly.

"God, Sheba. You feel so good." He gritted out as he held onto her hips. She smiled, confidently. She hated to admit it but a narcissistic part of her liked that only she drove him wild like this. She began to squeeze her inner walls together as she pumped, clamping him like a vice just how he liked it.

He held her hips, controlling the pace until they both screamed out in unison, coming together. She slumped against him tiredly and he held tight to her pulling her to him as his face rested against her breasts.

She stroked his slightly damp hair; her own thick curls were sprawled messily around her head like a halo. They lay like that for a while, their wild heartbeats calming down and he purred in contentment as she stroked his hair.

He turned them so that they were on their sides, so he could spoon her against him.

"Stay the night, darling?" He asked her tiredly and she nodded, exhausted.

He smiled softly at her and stroked her hip in rhythmic circles with his thumb. She listened to his happy sighs and she marveled that this hard man completely turned into a softy when he let his guard down in her presence. He only truly slept well with her by his side.

As held each other, Sheba realized that moments like this made her realize that maybe she loved him as well. She wished for the thousandth time that life were simpler, and that they had met in different circumstances. However, as her eyes drifted off to sleep she realized that there was no point dwelling on what could have been. It was best to take it a day at a time.

**Thank you so much to my lovely readers. I truly appreciate and enjoy your comments and suggestions. I love that you suggested for me to continue the story. For now, this will remain a two shot but if I have time I would love to add a few more chapters. I had wished to write this sooner but a full-time job and class is killing me. **

**Also, I hope I am not offending anyone with the language or subject matter. None of those horrible ideas or thoughts represents my beliefs. I just wish to somewhat accurately write about the time period. **

**Thanks again and until next time!**

**-Almond**


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